He owns her—Every. Single. Breath. She just doesn't want to admit it. To him, or herself. . .

You get hurt once; you assume that’s the norm. You see others suffer; you assume that’s the norm, too.

At least, that’s what Livana once did. One rough go-around was enough for her. After that, she kept it simple, no strings attached. It was just easier that way. Even necessary.

Until she went out one night and met Calum Alexander, a man whose intensity broke through each of her defenses, leaving her vulnerable.

Afraid to fall in love, she tries to keep some of her walls up around herself, even though Calum is determined not to let her.

Faced with a man that seems intent on possessing her, Liv knows it’s a mere matter of time before she no longer has a choice.

That is. . .until Calum's own insecurities come to the fore, throwing their new, fragile relationship into a tailspin.

Will the feelings between them be strong enough to keep them together, or will their issues get in the way of what they had just started to build?

Excerpt

It occurred to me that we never
really had angry sex before.

It was about to happen.

Right now.

Leaning down, he slanted his mouth
over mine. I took it, opening my mouth for the aggressive thrust of his tongue.
Our tongues tangled, breaths mingling. He kissed me with slow, hard laps,
making his message clear.

He owned my body.

He knew it.

Did he think that gave him the right
to hug his ex in front of me and that I’d have no say about it?

Hurt, I bit down on his lip.

Not breaking our kiss, he groaned
and sucked on my tongue. His fingers tightened around my nipples. That hint of
pain again.

Each sting merged with the
sensations his tongue evoked, until I was drugged. Couldn’t think about
anything but him coming inside me.

Letting go of his wrists, I fisted
his lapels. “God, just fuck me already. Please.” My tone was incoherent. Needy.

He wrenched my head back with a fist
in my hair, attacking my neck with his tongue and teeth. “You want me to fuck you?” He gave me a harsh bite
that made me yelp.

It wasn’t lost on what his words
truly meant. “Yes. You.” Gasping for breath, I pressed as close to him as
possible. “Always you.”

He didn’t deserve that, but I had no
choice but to give it to him.

A guttural sound left him. His hands
came down on my ass, lifting me up against him. “I’ll give it to you. Every
single, God damned thing.”

Christ, please tell me that meant
what I thought it meant.

Bending at the knee, he scooped me
up into his arms.

I'd become so lightheaded with want
that it took me a few seconds to find my voice. When I finally did, it sounded
raspier than I’d ever heard it. “Where are we going?”

The look in his eyes somehow turned
hungrier.

Angrier.

Determined.

I couldn’t focus on the beautiful
garden around us, or what direction he stormed in.

It was all about him. That austere
expression, the hardened brow. His golden eyes fixated ahead and burning with that violent energy.

Oh, God. I loved him. I truly did.
So fucking much, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe through the emotion—could
barely contain the words inside me.

Calum raced up another short flight
of steps and lowered me down to my unsteady feet. He reached into his coat
pocket for that passkey again and stepped up to me.

N. Isabelle Blanco was born in Queens, NY (USA). At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.

An avid reader in her teens, her fascination with Japanese anime eventually led her to the universe of fan fiction, which became her on-again, off-again hobby for the next ten years. During that time she amassed a following of fans that, by her own admission, she would never be able to live without. It was those fans who encouraged her to step beyond the fan fiction realm and try her talent in the publishing world.

N. Isabelle Blanco spends her days working as an author, web programmer, marketer, and graphic designer. That is when she isn’t handling her “spawn”, as she calls her son, and brainstorming with him about his future career as a comic book illustrator.